Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [96]
Which meant that Gwen sent her scouts out to patrol the borders, keeping their skills sharp. Any that had good reasons to bide, she found other work for and replaced them. And she herself served as Caradoc’s personal bodyguard when he went out to look over the lands or stood behind her father when he welcomed strangers. When she was not doing that, she was hunting, and when she was not hunting, she was training.
On the whole, she preferred to wake early, work to exhaustion, and fall into bed at night. So long as she did that, she did not think too much about how narrow and solitary that bed was, nor how she had no fast friend among the men or the women either in whom she could confide.
Rarely, very rarely, she would watch Cataruna and Gynath with their heads together over something and wonder what it would have been like if Little Gwen had been her friend instead of her enemy . . . after all, there was really no reason why they should have been rivals. They didn’t want the same things and really never had. But then she would shake that off and go on about her business; she had neither the time nor the energy to waste on fantasies. And the more she could put Little Gwen out of her mind, the happier she was. Presumably she was queening it at Lot’s table, since rumor put Morgana somewhere about Celliwig, and she would be the only woman of rank there now. With luck, that would be enough for her.
Spring came and went with no sign of the Saxons making any more trouble, which was just as well since there was more than enough trouble in the South to make eyebrows rise.
King March of Kerrow . . .
It seemed that the Saxons were not the only ones who were interested in the High King’s obsession with his new wife (one could scarcely call her a “bride” at this point). Now, Lot was a sly snake and not to be trusted, but March was an entirely different cut altogether. If you were the sort—like King Lleudd—who held that fidelity to one’s oaths was of the highest importance, then March was as treacherous as they came. Not only did he seem to regard his oaths to the High King as of importance only so long as they were of benefit to him, he seemed to regard all oaths in the same light.
Add to that, so far as Gwen could tell from the reports of others, the man was mad.
He had a temper that he did not even try to govern. Not only had he slain messengers and even the High King’s Companions when a rage was on him, he had killed dozens of his own warriors.
And now, for reasons best known only to him—or out of sheer insane spite—he had raised an army and was marching on Arthur. The fact that he was going to have to cross either lands holding fealty to Lleudd (who was not going to allow it) or Saxon holdings did not seem to matter to him.
Gwen studied the maps alongside her father and his war chiefs. “I had rather that March wore himself out against the Saxons,” Lleudd growled. “A pox on the man! And a pox on whatever demon sired him! No sane man would act as he does.”
Much to Gwen’s pleasure, on the other side of the table was Arthur’s Companion Lancelin. True to his prediction, he was staying far from the High King’s court at Celliwig to escape the jealous regard of the queen. Lleudd had welcomed him with his knowledge of warfare with pleasure, and his self-effacing nature ensured that the other war chiefs were not made to feel that they had been put aside. She regarded him with pleasure not only because she enjoyed his company but also because his respect for her reinforced her own position among even those who knew her. Perhaps she was finally overcoming those too youthful looks.
Though without a doubt, wherever she was, Little Gwen was taking every advantage of the apparent youth they shared.
“If that is truly what you want, my lord King,” Lancelin ventured, “I do not think that March can win against your men and especially not against your chariots. There are plenty of places along the way where the ground would be ideal for them.”
“But the loss of a single man to that fool is one man too many,” Lleudd replied. “Be sure